


Nikiforov's Moving Castle

by Queerlyonice



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Howl's Moving Castle AU, M/M, Viktor POV, based on the book
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 16:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10364847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerlyonice/pseuds/Queerlyonice
Summary: Viktor is head over heels in love for a strange, anxious wizard from a no-name coastal town. He has their entire romance sketched out in a journal somewhere, hidden under a pillow, which may or may not be his. Theirs will be the story of a lifetime.Except for one small hitch.Prologue up.





	

_He didn't mean to do it. Hadn't known that he could._

_He'd been shocked, frustrated, and he'd spoken in anger. The object of his disappointment before him, he could not help but curse. He'd only wanted to heard. To be understood._

_In a way, he was. He did not know then, that something else was listening._

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Yutopia was a quaint little inn, in a quaint little town. Being that it was so little and quaint, it had taken Viktor weeks to locate it. Long, boring weeks, which had been quite lonely, if one were to be so gauche as to admit to such a feeling. His loneliness was over though, or soon would be, once Viktor found what he was looking for. He approached the front desk of the inn, with a spring in his step and a metaphorical song in his heart. The clerk at the desk turned towards him as he approached, but did not smile.

 

"Hello," Viktor said. "Might this be the residence of Katsuki Yuuri?"

 

Victor had worn his white and silver robes that day, the ones that shone like sunlight on the ocean. The woman in front of him did not look impressed. That, in and of itself, was unusual. Though there were some who did not find him utterly charming, they usually pretended to because he commanded attention and looked like he came from money.

 

"Who's asking?" the woman said, narrowing her eyes.

 

"Viktor Nikiforov." Viktor bowed.

 

When he raised his head again, he found no warmer reception than before. The woman looked surprised, which was to be expected, and upset, which was not expected at all.

 

"Is there something on my face?" Viktor asked.

 

"You're late," she said.

 

"To what?" Viktor asked.

 

"Yuuri left," she said. "A day ago. I don't know where, or for how long, but he's gone, and I don't think he's coming back."

 

"Oh," Viktor said.

 

There were tears in her eyes.

 

"I'm sorry you came all this way," she said.

 

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," Viktor replied.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

The clerk's name was Mari, and she was Yuuri's sister.

 

"He's the youngest in the family," Mari said. "But there's only two of us, so he was never sure if he'd amount to anything."

 

"I've never really bought into that, the whole rule of threes thing," Viktor said.

 

"Yes but you're the seventh son of a seventh son, that's as auspicious as you can get."

 

Viktor did not contradict her.

 

"I don't know magic, so I don't know if Yuuri had talent," Mari said. "But he worked harder than anyone, and every amazing thing he achieved, he earned."

 

"Why did he leave?" Viktor asked.

 

They were sitting on the Inn's back porch, in a small, private section that was kept aside for the Katsuki family. Mari had taken Viktor and a small bottle of sochu along with her. They were on their way to making a sizable dent in the bottle.

 

"Yuuri has a glass heart," Mari said, and it was hard to say if her honesty were born of alcohol or sadness.

 

"He's one of the six finest wizards in the kingdom," Viktor said.

 

Mari finally did smile, and there was no joy in it at all.

 

"Sixth of six," she said. "And not by the narrowest of margins..."

 

"Yes, well-"

 

"He's always hated to lose," Mari said.

 

Viktor looked out over the garden, which was lush and green, and lovely, and not particularly inspirational.

 

"I think," Viktor said, pensively, "that I know the feeling."

 

"He idolised you. Still does. "

 

Viktor looked down at his fingers, long and thin, aristocratic. Caster's hands. He could remember the way Yuuri worked his magic, the unusual gestures over familiar, sweeping movements. He had known, from the first performance, that Yuuri admired him.

 

"We've met once or twice," Viktor said. "He danced at the King's Gala."

 

That, finally, was what brought some warmth to Mari's face.

 

"He's a wonderful dancer, isn't he?" she said.

 

"Oh, yes," Viktor said, voice falling into a sigh.

 

Mari laughed, a quiet, heavy thing. She poured another glass, one for Viktor, and then one for herself. They raised their glasses before drinking, toasting to no one. It was good, but not so good as to make a waste of drinking it. It was suitable to their mood.

 

"I wish you had come sooner," Mari said, echoing Viktor's earlier sentiment.

 

"Maybe I will find him," Viktor said.

 

"How easy is it to find a wizard who does not wish to be found?" Mari asked.

 

"There are more impossible things," Viktor replied.

 

And indeed there were. Just not many.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

They drank for many hours, talking on and off, until Mrs Katsuki found them. She did not scold them, though she looked like she wanted to say _something_ , and had thought different of it. Instead she herded them inside, and then she fed them, and gave them water, and left them alone again with a bottle of vodka on the table.

 

"Your mother is very thoughtful," Viktor said.

 

"She knows who you are," Mari said. "This is... her way of supporting you without telling you what to do."

 

"What of you?"

 

"Me too, but we'll be able to talk about this, one day soon. This may be the last time she ever sees you, the great wizard Nikiforov."

 

It occured to Viktor that he sincerely liked the Katsukis, and their little inn, and their little garden. They were kind people, warm and open, and he was sad all over again at the thought that he had met them in such a way, at such a time, and without the passing of a day all might have been much different.

 

"I was going to ask Yuuri to work with me," Viktor said.

 

"Ah, yes," Mari said. " _Work_."

 

"Do you not believe me?" Viktor asked.

 

"It's more difficult to believe a half truth," Mari said. "And I am as good at spotting them as mages are at telling them."

 

Viktor's smile was mirthless, though not ill-tempered.

 

"We are indeed," he replied.

 

"I'm surprised you haven't asked me," Mari said.

 

"Hm?"

 

"How I know he left, and how I know he won't return."

 

"I had assumed if anyone would know, it would be his sister."

 

"You might be surprised."

 

"Never."

 

This time Viktor reached for the bottle, and poured it into their cups. He waited until Mari took her glass before drinking from his own.

 

"Do you want me to tell you?" Mari asked.

 

It was surprising, how the thought of knowing something so intimate about Yuuri turned his body cold, now that Yuuri was gone. Once he would have gleaned for any little word he might hear, any piece of news or history. Now it seemed much like whetting his appetite for a meal that did not exist, or some other euphemism that were more poignant, distanced from the hunger and loss he felt.

 

"Thank you," Viktor said. "But, no."

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

Viktor stumbled home, his robes dragging in the dirt as he went. He’d left his castle on the plains outside town, wandering slowly where it was least likely to encounter a person or trip over a hiding sheep. The long walk home did little to sober him, nor console him.

 

The stars were sparkling over the sea, and all he could think was that he had hoped to share them, and could not. His grand, romantic gesture had been for nothing.

 

The castle met him, to the side of the main thoroughfare, ten minutes from the town’s gates. An old man was sitting nearby, on an old, stone fence, propped up by a walking stick. Viktor waved to him, and the old man waved back.

 

“Lovely castle,” the old man said, his voice wavering with his advanced age.

 

“Thank you,” Viktor replied.

 

It took him four tries to get the back door open. The key wouldn’t seem to go into the lock. He closed the door behind him, once he was inside, his eyes slow to adjust to the firelight in his kitchen. Which was odd, because he couldn’t remember leaving anything on his hearth.

 

Hunched over, at his breakfast table, was a solitary figure. The hood of their robe was up, their forehead resting on their arms.

 

Viktor could hardly breathe.

 

“Yuuri?” Viktor asked. “Is that you?”

 

The figure shifted, rubbing their hand against their eyes, before turning.

 

“Where the hell have you been?” Yuri Plistesky said, his young face lined with the kind of anger most old people didn’t have the energy for.

 

“Out,” Viktor replied. “Drinking.”

 

And then Yuri yelled at him, at a painful volume, and for such a long time, that Viktor went to bed before Yuri was finished and locked the door behind him, so as to keep Yuri outside it.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering about the style of this story, I am basing it a bit off how Diana Wynne Jones writes her stories. There's a different cadence to it that more modern or fic style writing has, and if I'm fucking it up irrevocably, I apologize.  
> This AU also makes a lot of changes from the source text, but it keeps the main one, which is that Yuuri has powers (like Sophie) and absolutely shit sense of self worth (... also like Sophie).  
> p.s. I live for feedback.


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